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Nobody Home
The Wall - Pink Floyd
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I've got a little black book with my poems in
Got a bag with a toothbrush and a comb in
When I'm a good dog
They sometimes throw me the bone in
I got elastic bands keepin' my shoes on
Got those swollen hand blues
I got thirteen channels of shit on the TV to choose from
I've got electric light
And I've got second sight
I got amazing powers of observation
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And that is how I know, when I try to get through
On the telephone to you, there'll be nobody home
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I've got the obligatory Hendrix perm and the inevitable pinhole burns
Now all down the front of my favorite satin shirt
I've got nicotine stains on my fingers, I've got a silver spoon on a chain
Got a grand piano to prop up my mortal remains
I've got wild staring eyes
And I've got a strong urge to fly, but I got nowhere to fly to
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Ooh, babe when I pick up the phone there is still nobody home
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I've got a pair of Gohills boots and I got fading roots
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